Their Christmas Conversation
by Bells of Tomorrow
Summary: So instead, on one lonely, Christmas morning, he chooses to yell at God. He yells loud and hard once his father's passed out drunk, and then it's gone; all of it. The faith, the hope, the waiting... It's gone.


_**A/N: **__Merry Christmas Eve, you guys! Okay, as all of you know, I'm a huge sucker for holiday fics. I like 'em sweet, fluffy, and coated in holiday goodness. However, there is also a special place in my heart that has a fondness for holiday related fics with a heavier tone. This year, I allowed myself to follow that route by putting off a story idea I've had since 2009 (IE, when Stephen Colbert's Christmas special, _**"A Colbert Christmas: The Greatest Gift of All,"**_ came out. This story is heavily based off of the last song in the special, _**"There Are Much Worse Things to Believe In." **_This scenario has been nagging at the back of my mind since I heard the sucker, so finally, I decided to write it. Anyway, that's enough out of me for now. I hope you guys enjoy it, and Happy Holidays!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own a very large nothing._

_**Synopsis:**__ Takes place during season 5, sometime after, "My New God."_

_**Warning:**__ Mentions of child abuse and lots of discussion on various beliefs. _

**Their Christmas Conversation**

Out on the roof of one Sacred Heart Hospital, Turk stared longingly at the tree from across the way; its Christmas lights sparkling as the star on top winked at him from afar. It'd been a long evening, a long _Christmas,_ and Turk was grateful for the time alone.

Without breaking his gaze from the tree, the surgeon reached down into the inside of his scrubs top, pulling out the gold cross he'd been wearing around his neck since med school. As he stared at the lights from the park, he couldn't help but reflect on his first year at the hospital. Looking back, he couldn't believe how easily – how _quickly_ – he lost his faith, but at the same time –

"Gandhi!"

Turk tried not to sigh as the door to the roof flew open, the one and only Dr. Cox bursting through its entrance. "What in God's name are you doing up here?"

"Just taking a break before my next surgery. It's the first time all day I've actually taken a moment for myself, so if you don't mind –"

"Oh, _I _don't mind, but your patient who's currently preparing for surgery might, considering he's on the verge of a panic attack and ra-_heely_ wanted to talk to his surgeon before being put under the knife."

"I talked to him for a good half hour before I came up here. When was the last time you saw him?"

The older man crossed his arms and flicked his nose, a sure sign that he was pissed. "About an hour ago…" he managed.

Normally, Turk would have gone straight into some sort of victorious routine, maybe even accompanying his triumph with a dance, but tonight, Christmas seemed to calm his competitive streak, making his response to Perry's confession a simple nod.

Expecting a snarky comment before briskly turning away, Christopher was surprised when the older man continued to stare at him, eyebrows furrowed. It wasn't until he followed the attending's gaze did he realize that he wasn't looking at_ him_, but the object he was currently holding.

"What did you say you were doing up here, again?"

"Just reflecting a bit," the surgeon responded casually.

"Ah," Perry answered, a frighteningly playful smile making itself known, "'Reflecting.' By the way you're currently holding that lucky charm of yours, I'm guessing your thoughts are on your Lord and Savior, right? By the way, what's he want for his birthday this year? Did he tell you?"

Turk tried not to bite back at Cox's sarcastic tone, but sometimes, the attending made it difficult. Putting up with him constantly berating both himself and his fellow surgeons was somehow easier than when he decided to go at his beliefs. To his credit, he didn't do it much, but whenever he did, it ended up bothering him more than it had the last time. "Okay, first of all," the surgeon responded in a tone he hoped wasn't too irritable, "this isn't a lucky charm." Here, he opened his hand so that his necklace was completely visible. "This is a cross, and I don't wear it because I think it brings me luck. I wear it to remind myself that no matter how ugly things get around this place, I'm not alone."

The older man scoffed. "For God's sake, Milk Dud, your wife could have told you that."

"Actually, she did. Well, not those words exactly, but during my first year here –"

"I wasn't talking about Carla."

It took Turk a moment to realize he was referring to JD, but when he did, he merely rolled his eyes. "Hahaha, we're married. That's clever, Dr. Cox. I've never heard that one from you before."

"Ah-ah, Turtle Head, no biting back now. Isn't there something in that book of yours about turning the other cheek?"

"Look, Dr. Cox – I don't know what I did that's suddenly got you pissed at me for believing in God, but seriously, can you back off a little? It's Christmas, and if that's not a big deal to you, that's fine, but it's an important day to me and all I'm asking is for _two minutes_ to think about why that is."

"And so am I."

Turk's eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. "You're reflecting?"

"No, ya' idiot. I'm trying to figure out _why_ this day is so damn important to you. After all, there are plenty of people who don't believe in God who still gush all over this stupid holiday, so you saying that it's important has to be God-related, correct?"

Dr. Cox was surprised when, instead of biting back, the surgeon seemed to take his question very seriously; fingering his cross a bit longer as his gaze grew far off and contemplative. Finally, he spoke. "It's important to me in the same way I think it's important to most people. Christmas represents that time of year you spend with your loved ones; the time of year where, if you're lucky, you can get a bit of peace. In this place though, it's hard to remember that, since you see so many people brought here, suffering; you see so many people die. That's why I carry this cross with me, to remind myself of the world outside this place; that there's more out there than just Sacred Heart. It reminds me, especially on days like today, that while I may not being doing what I wanted to – opening presents with Carla and JD, eating Christmas dinner, watching different specials – I'm still able to give back to those who never had that chance in the first place. It's what Jesus would have done, I think, and so I try not to get so down about it."

It was a moment before the older man said anything – his eyes searching and his jaw tight with tension – but when he finally chose to speak, it wasn't what Turk was expecting. "You know He wasn't even born on Christmas, right? That scholars say he was probably born in the spring?"

Turk looked hard at Dr. Cox, eyebrows furrowed curiously. To Perry, it was a look of confusion; an expression much similar to when he told him something in relation to medicine. And while it may have been true that Turk wasconfused to a degree, it wasn't in regards to the attending's latest information, what with the surgeon already having known that probability in the first place. His confusion, or rather, his curiosity, was wrapped around one single realization alone.

How did someone who claimed to not believe in God know so much about the Bible?

Perry's comment on Jesus being born in the spring is what triggered the thought, but it definitely wasn't the first time the question popped into his mind. There'd been numerous times throughout his five years of working there that Cox, in an attempt to be snarky, would reference the Bible in various shapes and forms. Granted, the passage he'd reference would always have its own "Coxian twist," but Turk knew he would have had to known the original verse to begin with in order to mimic it.

There was also his habit of talking to God in the middle of conversations with others or in response to something that was either said or done to him. For years, Turk took it as a passive aggressive response to whoever had been addressing him at the time; his words to God a way of sticking it to whoever was annoying him enough to talk to the Big Guy in the first place. It wasn't until Turk caught Jordan berating the attending in the doctor's lounge one day did he start to wonder if there was more to it than sarcastic wit. After Jordan had stormed away, Perry had turned to the ceiling, telling God that he wasn't buying his whole, "I love everybody equally," routine. It was comical, actually, but he wasn't saying it in front of anyone; he wasn't putting on a show.

"You know," Turk finally responded. "For someone who doesn't believe in God, you sure do know a lot about him…"

The surgeon remained still as Cox's eyes suddenly narrowed angrily – _protectively, _almost – as his gaze transformed from annoyed to _caution:_ _do not cross this line._ "I don't dislike something I don't even bother to research," he finally answered. "My annoyance doesn't stem from a place of ignorance, but from experience. I wouldn't dismiss something without a reason to, or without knowing what it was I was dismissing. I wouldn't –"

"Experience?" Turk cut in curiously. "What experience? And with what? Experience with God, you mean?"

The minute the surgeon asked his question, the minute he knew his answer.

It was only weeks ago now that Perry's sister, Paige, made a visit to the hospital in order to attend Jack's baptism. His aggression towards her had originally appeared to be brought on by his distaste for her beliefs, but according to JD, he had confronted him on it; wondering why one of the most tolerable people he knew would take such offense to his sister's faith.

When JD first approached Turk with his question (before he had approached Cox himself) the surgeon couldn't help but reel back at any sort of connection between "Dr. Cox" and "Tolerable." Yet, when he really sat and thought about it, he couldn't recall a single time where the older man ever discriminated against another; where he let a person's beliefs dictate how he treated them.

It was after that realization when he later found out from Carla that Perry's anger towards Paige hadn't been God related at all; that he had chosen to focus on that part of her in an attempt to avoid focusing on something else all together.

So was that it then? The times where Cox randomly chose to go at him for his beliefs – a time like right now… Was there something else bothering him that he just didn't want to talk about?

"This conversation ends here," Perry responded dangerously, pulling Turk out of his silent musing.

"Wait, Dr. Cox –"

Hand on the doorknob to the roof, the older man didn't even bother to turn around as he responded to the bald headed surgeon. "I'm leaving you, aren't I? I'm giving you your moment to 'reflect,' so if you don't mind –"

"BUT I ALMOST LOST MY FAITH!"

Turk breathed in sharply as Cox's hand froze. He was never in that long line of people who quaked at the sight of the attending. In fact, even as an intern, he was always in that very _short _line of people who viewed him as something of a worthy opponent. Still though, he was treading on very fragile ground; something he hadn't exactly planned on doing this Christmas evening.

Slowly, the older man turned around, and while his expression was one of annoyed curiosity, Turk realized at once that Perry was more interested in an explanation than he was in choking him.

"Excuse me there, Gandhi?"

The surgeon swallowed quietly. He wasn't afraid to talk to Cox about this, but truthfully, he never really talked about it to anyone before, it being fairly painful for him to both confess and think about. "My first year at this place, I was working on Christmas Eve. I was looking forward to going home on Christmas morning and going to mass with JD and Carla, but…I never did that. I was just…I got so depressed after seeing all those helpless people brought in on a night that should have been full of love and peace and, well…all the things I got so used to growing up with around Christmas time. I guess, in a lot of ways, I was still naïve then; ignorant, even. So I saw these people suffering and thought, 'How can I do this? How can I believe in a God who let's this kind of thing happen?' It wasn't until I found Elliot's patient that I got my faith back, but you know…I think I'm actually stronger for having lost it, if only for a while. I mean… Looking back, it was no wonder I kept my faith all these years. Bad things never really happened to me often. They just…didn't. But suddenly, I was thrown into this world where I was surrounded by people who bad things wouldn't stop happening _to,_ where I could mess up and end a life just by a single inaccurate snip. I feel like, now, I'd have every right to dismiss my beliefs, and yet I don't; I have no desire too."

"And so that makes you better than," Cox said sarcastically. "The fact that you haven't given up on the idea of a God."

The older man was surprised when the surgeon actually laughed at this. "Me? Better? _Hell_ to the no! Dude, have you met me? I'm not for a second pretending I'm some sort of model for 'what faith is all about,' or any of that stuff. What I am saying is that losing it for a while made me understand why someone else could have lost theirs, especially if their experience…especially if their experience was significantly worse than mine…"

Turk pretended not to notice how Perry's eye visibly twitched. Had he gone too far? Was Cox going to surprise him with a solid punch to the face, or whirl back towards the exit, leaving the roof with a resounding bang of the door?

But instead, the older man chose to speak, surprising both the surgeon and even himself. "I don't understand how Paige even has hers," he said suddenly, a look in his eyes Turk couldn't quite place. "Sure, we were brought to church, but –"

"Wait," the surgeon interrupted. "You, I mean…you went to church when you were younger?"

Perry's eyebrows furrowed instinctively, as if he couldn't understand why this revelation was so informative. "Didn't you?"

"Well yeah, but…" Ever since finding out about Paige, Turk had just assumed she found her faith _after _they moved out and went on with their lives, not before. But if both she and Dr. Cox had grown up being told about God…

And suddenly, everything made sense. Suddenly, Turk was seeing the world through Cox's eyes. Suddenly, he was seeing a little kid; a kid who kept getting beaten, throttled, threatened… Suddenly, those same people who hurt him – the two people in a person's life who were _never_ supposedto hurt him – were dressing him and his sister up in neatly ironed clothes, the only real good clothing that they ever had. Suddenly, they were parading him and his sister around for the entire world to see. No, not the world, but a church; a church he grew up being brought to. And now – desperately, longingly, _painfully_ – the boy took in what he heard and prayed, prayed, prayed, prayed, prayed, prayed, _prayed;_ he prayed that someone would come and take him away, or that someone from either school or church would notice his bruises, or that God would send an angel down to protect him from his father's drunken fists. But nothing ever happens. No one ever comes. Yet he's continually forced to smile for these people and act like the perfect little family that they aren't, not at all, until he's forced into something even worse – going home – and having to take those fists from his father, while Paige tells him after that it's all for a reason, that things will get better, and as confused as he is by the realization that she still believes, he can't yell at her either, since she's getting it just as bad. So instead, on one lonely, Christmas morning, he chooses to yell at God. He yells loud and hard once his father's passed out drunk, and then it's gone; all of it. The faith, the hope, the waiting… It's gone. And his sister still believing isn't really what bothers him after all. It's that he wanted to believe too – maybe even still does – but he just can't bring himself to do it. It's too hard; too painful, and no matter how much Turk would love to tell him that it _has _gotten better, that maybe all reasons aren't for us to know, and that he could still believe if he wanted to, he can't bring himself to speak, because the surgeon knows that if it had been him, he would have given up his faith long before Cox let go of his.

Perry could see the story playing before Turk's eyes, so instead of telling him what little he was going to tell him anyway, he decided to just pose one more question. "Let me ask you something there, Gandhi. How do you keep on believing in a God whose reason behind these horrible things happening, you know nothing about?"

When Turk adapted a small, sad smile, Cox thought he had hit a nerve (and was oddly surprised to find that this didn't thrill him any). However, he was also surprised upon hearing Turk's answer, not having expected it in the least.

"I guess, at the end of the day, it comes down to this: there are much worse things to believe in."

Perry frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, think about it… There are a thousand variations of what God really is out there, and as far as I can tell, not all of them are exactly pleasant. If I wanted to, I could believe in a dark and spiteful God; I could believe in a great, judgmental deity; a being who would condemn those who he didn't deem worthy without pause. But instead, I choose to believe in the one who loves me without question; the one whose son was born in a manger, of all places. It might not seem logical, and honestly? I understand that, I do, but at the end of the day, there are much worse things I could believe in."

It was a long moment before either of them spoke, but when Perry's gaze shifted from Turk to the tree's, distant star, the surgeon realized that their conversation was over.

Quietly, the bald headed surgeon moved towards the exit, Dr. Cox still staring at the Christmas lights from the park. Before exiting the roof, Turk decided to pose one more question himself. "Are you coming to our place later? I know JD invited you for our day-after-Christmas-dinner."

Voice unusually calm, Cox responded evenly. "Unfortunately, yes. Jordan's making me."

Grinning, Turk made to leave, but not before wishing Dr. Cox a Merry Christmas. He closed the door before he had time to see if he responded, but even though Turk couldn't hear him, he liked to believe that he did.

_**A/N:**__ I know that wasn't the fluffiest of holiday fics, but I do hope you enjoyed it, all the same, and that you enjoy your holiday season. Be safe, take care of yourselves, and once again, thank you guys for guiding me and encouraging me through yet another year. Your feedback is beyond appreciated, trust me, and I can't wait to see you all again in 2011. _

_Happy Holidays & until next time!_


End file.
